My Name is Percy Jackson: Book 1
by Chewy Nemesis
Summary: A retelling of the Lightning Thief story with an altered Percy. Epic!Smart!Sarcastic!Percy. Mostly Canon, but will divert. Not a 'Reading' story.
1. I Vanquish my Evil PreAlgebra Teacher

**A/N This is just a test chapter, but I will do the whole series if people like it enough. Please review, and tell me. This is a retelling of the Lightning Thief Chapter 1, but with a slightly smarter, more sarcastic, and overall more epic Percy. Hope you like it.**

**IMPORTANT: I'm not American, I live in New Zealand, so I'm guessing a large amount of the American culture and idiom. I did, however, revise the words to be spelled in American style.**

**Disclaimer: I am not Rick Riordan, and therefore do not own Percy Jackson**

Chapter 1: I Vanquish my Evil Pre-Algebra Teacher

I didn't ask to have issues.

My name is Percy Jackson, and at the moment I'm sitting in a bus on the way to a field trip for Yancy Academy. My friend Grover was chattering nervously next to me while I stared out the window, he was looking at Nancy Bobofit while sending me these glances, probably to tell me to stop spacing out. I guess he's right, as Nancy or any other bully would have no problems yanking him out of the way to get to me while I was staring out the window.

I didn't really care; I may have only been a 6th Grader, but getting kicked out of school each and every year gives you a thick skin. See, doctors and school shrinks kept telling me I have ADHD and dyslexia, but all I know is that reading gives me major headaches and I get bored REALLY easily. I don't think I have ADHD, you know, 'cause they say I can't keep still and have trouble concentrating. I just notice all these things that other guys don't, my eyes keep darting around. I only told kids about this once, but being 'uncool' for the rest of that year told me I shouldn't give them more ideas.

I guess I have complex thoughts because when I'm bored I pay attention to things. I still can't read without a lot of time and headches, but it didn't matter that much as I was usually around some teacher or other yelling at me for being lazy; you pick up some really colorful language when you listen to the teachers mutter about you. That's probably the only reason I was going on this trip, Mr Brunner.

First, I should probably tell you, Yancy is a private school in upstate New York for troubled kids, and I am sure as hell a troubled kid. I picked up my attitude when docs kept on saying I have these mental illnesses, and then kept expecting me to go back to school to just try harder. Good job docs, give the kid headaches and tell him that's the rest of his life. The only reason I kept going back to school was my mom, but I'll tell you about her later.

So, I just went from school to school, worked hard for D grades, and generally just put effort in so I wouldn't add a delinquent son to my mom's list of problems. Going from school to school you learn to pick up things about the kids and teachers, and Mr Brunner was unusual, I liked him a lot.

Mr Brunner taught Latin, which was my favorite subject since he started teaching, and he was awesome. He was the only teacher who seemed to want me to pass their class, and the lessons were kinda cool. It kinda sucked that he was a middle-aged guy stuck in a wheelchair, and I'm pretty sure he can't feel his legs since I tripped over them on the first day. It didn't stop him, though, from dressing up in Roman armor and forcing us at sword-point to recount every Greek and Roman person who ever lived, who their parents were, what god they worshiped, and when they were alive. It was cool though, because he wasn't exactly the type you would expect to be awesome, he had thinning hair and an old tweed jacket. It was the glint in his eyes that told you the truth, if you looked, as he seemed to be enjoying his own private joke, which was probably true. Class was as tough as hell as it was mostly reading and writing, but Brunner was a good teacher, and he let us play around a bit, so it didn't put me to sleep, like when I had given up on my other classes.

Mr Brunner was leading this field trip, so there was hope for it yet. Why they sent us on field trips was beyond me, I mean they advertise the school as one for troubled kids, and they send them out into public places they can wreck? Either way, I would have skipped this one if it weren't for Brunner; who actually _wants_ to go to a stuffy old museum of Greek and Roman stuff? Yeah, as if we _really_ care.

The trip in took forever, and Grover shook me from one of the only times I had actually managed to get caught up in my thoughts when he lurched sideways in his seat. Looking up, I saw peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich dangling from the side of his head, and turning around I saw a smirking Nancy Bobofit. If it weren't for the fact that I was actually trying to get through the year without getting suspended, I would have already jumped up and wiped that smirk off her face.

I was in a bad mood by the time we arrived, no-one messes with my friends. Well, friend, as Grover was the only friend I had. Still, though, I had to look out for him. Grover's scrawny, and he sorta cries when he gets frustrated. Grover also must be way older than the rest of us, because he had acne and a wispy beard on his chin; he was definitely not 12. The G-man was also crippled, he shuffles along as he has what looks like a muscular disease or something in his legs that gets him out of PE, but you still should have seen him run when it was enchilada day at the cafeteria.

Nancy Bobofit, on the other hand, was unfortunate as she was downright ugly, I mean crooked-teeth-red-hair-and-Cheetos-freckles-ugly, and she thought she was cool because she was the only klepto 12-year-old in school. She was still smirking though, because the last time I beat her up I was threatened with in-school suspension for the remainder of my natural life, which went double if I did anything to mess up this trip. Sure, I wasn't the only troublemaker in the school, but the fact that they don't change anything and just up the punishments still boggles me, I guess it's because we aren't properly teenagers yet.

I picked the sandwich pieces out of Grover's hair and threw them on the ground while scowling at Nancy. I couldn't do anything and she knew it, and I got this feeling that despite Brunner, this trip was only going to get worse. I sarcastically patted myself on the back when Mrs Dodds turned up, she hated me and I had a bad reputation with field trips. Last year I got expelled when I somehow managed to misfire a Revolutionary War Cannon at the school bus, and the year before I managed to tip the catwalk with a lever so we all went swimming with sharks. I never meant to do any of those things, but it was probably suspicious when I was the closest person to what caused the accidents and the only one that found them funny; the sharks were friendly, honest!

As another piece of Nancy's lunch hit Grover's head, I sent him a look, _dude, please let me deck her_, but he just shook his head. "It's alright mate, I like peanut butter." I sent him a warning look, that was so not funny, but pulled it in and shrugged. It was his decision to make, and sandwiches are relatively non-lethal, so I let it slide. _This time_.

Mr Brunner lead the museum tour, which I imagine would have been great if I was at all interested or it was a subject that I liked. Still, I put on a mildly interested look on for the other people visiting and convinced myself that what I was forcing myself to look at was... what was that word all the stuffy old English teachers and shrinks use? Oh yeah, _fascinating_.

I guess museums aren't really my type of place, but that was probably for the better considering my fate if anything disruptive, embarrassing, or mildly entertaining happened on this trip. Still, the huge echoey galleries were kinda spooky, and they were filled with huge amounts of weathered marble statues and fragments of ancient Greek pottery. It was all really boring for someone with ADHD, but it was still a bit mind-blowing how it had all survived for so long, however many years it had been since those ancient empires had been around.

My attention snapped back to the tour when Mr Brunner started talking about a _stele_ that we were obviously standing next to. Apparently they were ancient Greek grave markers or something, but I just saw a huge 13-foot-high stone column with a sphinx carved on top. Weren't sphinxes Egyptian, anyway? Apparently this _stele_ was for a girl about our age, and all the carvings on it meant things and stuff. All I could think of gazing up at the huge thing was that this girl must have had really rich parents, or parents that were wealthy carvers that could afford to make this between commissions.

The kids around me, actually our whole class, were talking really loudly and generally being immature and overall just pissing me off. Sure, I didn't care about this stuff all that much, but I had some idea of the respect it should be getting, and the museum halls magnify sound, so all the chatter was giving me a headache. "Would you please shut up!" Apparently hissing for quiet wasn't allowed either, as Mrs Dodds was giving me the evil eye from the back of the group. I just had to fall back on giving myself a sarcastic commentary and grumbling under my breath, I'm sure Mrs Dodds was out to get me.

See, she's like 50 years old or something, which is creepy enough without her coming to school every day in a black leather jacket looking like she'd ride a Harley to your house and make your parents ground you for the rest of your life if you annoyed her enough. She was like the little old evil bag lady in your neighborhood that no-one talks about, but you get pissed off with every time she disrupts your daily life.

Which for me, was basically all the time, because ever since she started teaching at Yancy Nancy Bobofit was her precious student, which meant I was the delinquent she just _loved_ to punish. She only arrived halfway through the school year, but since then I had become closely acquainted with her crooked little finger, which she would point at me and simper "Now, honey" in gross sweet tones that meant you were going to get detention after school for the next month.

I swear, she has this campaign to make me miserable, I'm almost scared she's going to stalk me in the summer holidays since she made me erase workbooks until almost midnight. Who has that amount of spare time? And why was she up at night watching me perform her stupid detentions instead of sleeping like a normal person? Just thinking of that makes me shiver, and I said to Grover straight-faced once that "She's evil! She's sooooo not human!" I didn't even think twice when Grover looked me in the straight in the eye and told me that I was absolutely right.

Mr Brunner was still talking about the _stele_, and I'm starting to think that it was the point of the field trip, because we haven't moved on. He kept sending it these glances like he was there at this girl's funeral. Nancy's sniggering was getting louder, and she kept making immature comments about some naked guy carved into the side of the column. I lasted all of thirty seconds until I turned around and glared "Oh will you _shut up_!"

My eyebrow was twitching and I was trying to reign in my temper, so it took a few seconds for it to sink in that it had come out louder than I meant it to, and it was still echoing around the gallery. Everyone was laughing, and I glared, trying not to blame them for me yelling, it was their fault in the first place. I swear everyone was baiting me into that. Mr Brunner paused in his story and looked at me, "Mr Jackson, did you have a comment?"

I was scowling, and I felt my cheeks start to turn pink as the embarrassment set in. "No, sir." Stupid teachers. He pointed back to the _stele_ and I inwardly groaned. It didn't matter what happened, when a teacher turns their attention to you, your their prime kid for testing what they were talking about. Sure, pick on the dyslexic kid that can't read the textbook. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carved picture, inwardly groaning. There was no way I was going to recognise some ancient weathered old carving of one moment in all of Greek Mythology. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw what it was, and flashed Mr Brunner a grateful smile, he really was the best. "Um, I'm pretty sure that's Kronos eating his kids, isn't it? I mean, it's kind of faded..." Mr Brunner was wearing an amused expression, but looked slightly impatient when he said "Indeed, Mr Jackson, you are correct. But he did this because..." _Oh crap_. "Um, Kronos was the king..." _Was it god? I'm not sure. _"And there was this prophesy that said one of his kids was going to overthrow him... Or he just didn't trust them because he did that to his dad..." The kids in the group were snickering now. "So he ate his kids, but his wife didn't like that so she hid baby Zeus and gave Kronos a rock to eat. Then Zeus grew up until he tricked Kronos into barfing up his brothers and sisters..." I tried to remember what came next, it wasn't easy remembering class lectures when I wasn't exactly focusing.

"Eeew!" Some of the girls in the group didn't seem to like the image I gave them of Kronos barfing, *smirk*. "And then there was this big war between the gods and Kronos' kind, what were they called again? Anyway, there was this big war, and the gods won." Pause, then cue snickers. What was wrong with some of these kids? Oh yeah, some of the kids were here because they were jerks. They were probably acting like they were in first grade again because the dyslexic kid answered better than they could. Nancy was definitely jealous when she huffed and turned to the girl next to her and whined "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'" Brunner looked like he heard her though.

_Oh crap, I'm gonna be put on the spot again_. "And why, Mr Jackson," Yep, Brunner was definitely making me a seer, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?" Grover whispered "Busted" as Nancy's face turned that shade of red you just _know_ that you can fry an egg on. And I still insist that the egg would taste like Cheetos, if you could persuade me to eat anything that had touched Nancy's skin. "Shut up!" As she hissed I wondered if having Cheetos freckles was a diagnosable medical condition. I don't even know what those words mean, but I have a pretty good guess as I've heard them a lot when shrinks talk to parents about their troubled kids.

Pity I didn't get to see her this shade of red that often, she only turned this colour when she was caught doing something wrong, which usually doesn't happen since she's in Mrs Dodds' pocket. And that red is absolutely _lovely_ with her hair. Only Brunner could do that to her, he must have radar ears or something, as no-one else except him and me ever hear her say anything bad, and I usually hear her because I'm right next to her when she says stuff. Looking back at Mr Brunner I realised that I hadn't answered his question, so I thought about it. "Well, I can't think of a situation off the top of my head, but the information has to be useful in some way, right? I mean, it is information and all..." I trailed off, hoping my answer was better than the blunt 'I don't know, sir' it was probably going to get if I had to be brutally honest.

Mr Brunner looked contemplative and mildly amused at my answer, but then he was a middle-aged man that had probably been teaching all of his adult life and therefore had heard most of the cop-outs students use. He did seem a little disappointed though, but at least he accepted that it was a tough question and I at least tried. Or at least, that was what I hoped was running through his head. "Interesting, Mr Jackson." Out of all my teachers, he was the only one that found my smart mouth amusing, it usually seemed to piss everyone else off. ""Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class sort of drifted towards the entrance of the museum, the girls looking sick and the boys pushing each other, snickering, and generally being doofuses. I was about to follow, but kept an ear out for Mr Brunner, he didn't like leaving students without answers to his questions, as his questions usually had points to them... or so he tells us. I'm not sure anyone fully understands what the point of all of it is, but that's generally why we're the kids at Yancy Academy for Troubled Youths.

Sure enough, I was about to follow at the back of the group with Grover when I heard Brunner's voice: "Mr Jackson." My automatic reply "Sir." was out even before I turned around. It still wasn't my fault that teachers found my overly polite response sarcastic or mocking, they were the ones that wanted me to be polite in the first place. Still, when I did turn around, I was drawn to his eyes, like I always was when he would tell me things that made his voice go all serious. Those eyes were ancient. They looked like they were thousands of years old and had seen empires rise and fall, and they were looking at me like I had better listen or else I would be the next empire to fall. It was nerve-wracking to say the least.

"You must learn to answer my question." Brunner made it sound like life or death, so I had to respond sarcastically, even though I knew better. "About the Titans?" My raised eyebrow only accented how small this matter was to me. A sneaking feeling had me wondering if it really was life or death that I had to learn this guy's subject, especially when I looked into his eyes and saw them like they were now. "About real life, and how your studies apply to it." That was kind of a big ask for a 6th grader, so I felt a little dwarfed by what he was asking me to do. I hadn't given any thought about my life or my future, I mean, I was just going to hop from school to school until I was like 18 or something. Then I would drop out and... do something. I had six years to figure that out.

Mr Brunner could definitely see my skepticism, "What you learn from me is vitally important, and I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson." Did everyone always have to say my last name in casual conversation?

Still, I was going to try harder for this guy. I know he expected me to be better than everyone else by the amount of pressure he put on me, but I learnt how to shrug off things like that ages ago. I was always going to do things my way, but it was nice to have a teacher that wanted me to do well and wanted to help me. That's not the kind of support kids like me got on a daily basis, so hell yeah was I going to try harder in the future. Aside from my mom, Latin is the only reason I'm staying in school and passing at all, so even if I could never spell it correctly, I would learn the subject for this guy.

The conversation was over then, so Mr Brunner told me to so outside and eat my lunch. I found the class out on the steps at the front of the museum, goofing off and watching the foot traffic on Fifth Avenue. Some idiots cat-called the people on the sidewalk. Sitting down next to Grover and turning my attention away from the class, I looked for something to focus on that weren't my idiotic classmates. The weather was horrible, thunderclouds gathering. It looked like a huge storm was brewing, which didn't look good for us but was hardly out of place, since the weather had been going to the dogs since Christmas. Must be Global Warming or something like that, because snow storms, flooding, lightning strikes and subsequent wildfires across New York State were hardly normal. I wouldn't be surprised if a hurricane didn't show up soon, weather like this definitely was a mood killer.

Watching the goofing off of my classmates inch ever closer to where we were sitting, I elbowed Grover and pointed over to the side of the steps. There was a fountain there, with a bench opposite that no-one was sitting on, and was far enough away from the rest of the class that we might even have a hope of not being lumped with the rest of the group by people walking down the sidewalk. It was nice, quieter anyway, but of _course _Nancy watched us leave. I just know for a fact that she was going to join us at some point and ruin the peaceful space we were looking to escape to. Ah well, my inner voice hates me sometimes, mostly because it sides with life over me. And _this _was why I stopped talking about my problems to people, because they would think I was nuts, and they'd be right.

"Detention?" Grover asked, pointing in Mr Brunner's direction when I just looked at him blankly. I really should stop spacing out, but at times today it feels like there's an invisible curtain hiding a large part of the world behind it, and I _should_ be able to see through it. "Nah, not from Brunner. I do wish he wouldn't be quite so dramatic about his subject, you know? This troubled kid can't exactly read the textbook." Grover looked sad for a long moment, like he was remembering something bad. He had a small frown and right when I thought he was going to come out and say something deep to cheer me up, he asked "Can I have your apple?"

Meh. I wasn't hungry, so I gave it to him. In the awkward silence that was only broken by the sound of Grover chewing, I noticed that some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers, and Nancy Bobofit trying to steal something out of this lady's purse while Mrs Dodds watched the group but didn't see a thing. Mr Brunner sat in his wheelchair reading a book and eating celery. Nancy looked up and saw me watching her. She gave a nasty little grin and made her way towards us after grabbing a few of her friends to try and make herself look more intimidating. I just snorted inwardly and leant back with my eyes closed. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, since the sun wasn't out, and I would have no notice if it started to rain, but it still felt good to stick it to her even if I couldn't exactly go up to her and wipe the smirk of her face. Despite the fact that there was no sun, I didn't need a shadow to tell me that she had arrived and was standing in front of me.

Nancy stood in front of where Grover and I had sat down, right between us and the fountain, actually. She had this little smirk and this little posse of friends behind her, and I could vaguely detect a feeling of foreboding amongst my growing headache. She was annoying at the best of times, and these weren't the best of times. Being ADHD generally gives me a shorter temper about things I care about than other people, and Nancy was an expert at pushing those buttons. She also seemed to take joy in taunting me and then hiding behind stupid teachers smirking right before I give her what she's asking for. I won't even try to remember all the times I've come _this_ close to lashing out properly, with full intent of breaking her jaw. Still, she'd been hammering the point all along this trip that I really didn't care about in the first place, so something was going to snap, and my headache tells me that it's going to be soon.

Nancy suddenly seemed to fall into her 'innocent little girl' act by suddenly whispering to her little _girlfriends_ and going all _giggly_. Did I mention that I was in a bad mood? Then she took out the rest of her lunch... and tipped it on Grover's lap. Now my head was pounding, because if she had done that to me, I would have up and decked her right then and there. Doing that to Grover, however, was something far worse. The shrinks have never been able to explain my protective instinct, when by all rights I should be looking out for my own skin. So when she did that to _Grover_, despite the fact that chivalry hasn't been around since, like, the Middle Ages, and the fact that Grover seemed less concerned about it than I was, I was still trying to reign in my temper from doing something I _might_ regret later.

"Oops." Her sarcastic voice made me look up at her, and I probably shouldn't. Yep, watching her grin at me definitely didn't help my temper, so I tried a last ditch attempt to not get suspended and remember what the shrinks told me about anger management. "Close your eyes, count to ten, get control of your temper." Yeah...

Closing my eyes didn't help much, I could _feel_ the smugness radiating off her. And counting to ten wasn't helping, I could only hear the sea. The waves sounded bigger and more vicious the angrier I got, until my mind blanked and I'm pretty sure I actually heard water. Opening my eyes, I was greeted to the sight of Nancy Bobofit on her butt in the fountain, completely soaked. The crowd that gathered to watch the confrontation were as stunned as I was, although at least they saw what happened.

"Did you see–"

"–the water–"

"–like it grabbed her–"

Yeah, that would have been pretty cool to watch if it had happened like that. Mrs Dodds materialized next to me, but I was pretty sure Nancy hadn't raised the alarm yet. She was still sitting there in shock, until she seemed to come to her senses and screeched "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs Dodds went into mother hen mode, like she always was around her poor little Nancy. Still, I didn't miss how creepy it was that she'd arrived like that, that seemed beyond normal teacher's instinct. She turned to me, looking almost triumphant and... hungry? Like she had been waiting for this or something? "Now honey..." She took a step forward as I took a step back, not entirely sure when I stood up. Holy crap she was scary, I had to try and diffuse some of the tension: she was a teacher, and I was a student, and so far there was nothing weird or paranormal about it. "Yeah, yeah, I know, a month erasing workbooks. Will I get to sleep during that month?" I managed what I thought was a winning grin as she growled and grabbed me by the shoulder to face her... Oh yeah, still got it.

Grover was panicking, and my heart went out to the guy. "W-Wait! It was me._ I_ pushed her." And that's why we were best buds, we stood up for each other. I was still shocked though, I mean, Mrs Dodds scared Grover nearly to death each time they met. She glared at him, " I don't think so, Mr Underwood." My poor friend, he tried so hard. "B-But..." His chin was trembling, but he refused to back down. "You–_will_–stay–here." She practically hissed at him. I tried to reach out, I clasped him by the shoulder, "It's okay man," I flashed him a reassuring smile, "thanks for trying." Our moment was ruined by the evil teacher. "Honey, _Now_!"

"Okay, okay. Geez..." I sent one last glance back to Nancy, seeing her soaked again would cheer me up, but she had this triumphant grin; I _so_ wanted to break her face. Instead, I took a deep breath and sent her my deluxe 'I'll-kill-you-later' stare. I made that stare so that when I was forced to leave a confrontation it wouldn't look like I was backing down. I've been suspended for giving teachers that stare. I turned around back to Mrs Dodds, but she was already at the top of the museum stairs. _How did she get there so fast?_That was... strange, I'm sure my ADHD brain wouldn't let me space out long enough for her to walk all the way there, I'm sure there hasn't been enough time. Still, I have moments like that quite often, when there's something that happens that shouldn't. There have been times I've heard flapping, turned around and a person I had never seen before appeared right behind me. Then I turn away from them, hear that flapping sound again, and they're gone. I'm sure they aren't quite human, or something like that, like those huge guys in trench-coats I see from time to time that I swear have only one large eye in the middle of their faces. Great, now Mrs Dodds is probably a monster, demon or alien of some kind, and I have to follow her because she's my teacher and she told me to.

I walked slowly after her, trying to process what my brain was telling me and the fact that it is supposedly diseased and I shouldn't listen to it anyway. Halfway up the steps to the front of the museum, I looked back to Grover. He looked pale and sick, and his eyes kept darting between Mrs Dodds and Mr Brunner, like he wanted our Latin teacher to notice what was going on. Looking back, Mrs Dodds was even further ahead of me, in the museum proper passed the entrance foyer. Maybe I was overreacting and she was only going to make me buy Nancy something from the gift shop? I somehow doubted it.

When I finally caught up to her, not only were we all the way back in the Greek and Roman section, but she looked like she hadn't even broken a sweat. She was just standing there with her arms folded in front of this huge marble frieze of the Greek gods, and we were alone. She was also making this like growling sound in the back of her throat; I was starting to get seriously creeped-out here. "You've been giving us problems, honey." Well, that was innocent enough, except for the fact that she was looking like she wanted to pulverize that marble frieze, followed by me... "Um, was this one of those times I already said was an accident? Because sorry and all, but... You are talking about something I did at school, aren't you?" She ignored me as she tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket, I got a feeling that she was talking about something else, and I had no clue what. "Did you really think you could get away with it?"

Hmm, options... I know, I'll taunt her! "Um, yeah, if it was that big a deal, then I don't think I would have come back to school right after I did whatever you're talking about. I mean, there are teachers here with the police on speed dial! Come on, what are you talking about?" I was getting a sinking feeling that this wasn't the time to play the smart-alec. Maybe that had to do with the absolutely evil look in her eye, or the terrifying thunder that just now conveniently shook the building. "We are not fools, Percy Jackson," I couldn't resist, she was laying herself completely open for this one, "Could have fooled me." Her eyes narrowed and I had the feeling she was about to inflict great bodily harm on my person, so I clammed up as she continued, "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess now and you will suffer less pain."

I don't know _what's_ up with the thunder and the lightning, but it really punctuated her little speeches well, I thought. A small voice in the back of my head also told me that I had a death wish, but that's the lame voice of reason or something like that. Maybe it's self preservation? That would explain a lot. "I confess! Wait, was that the line? Because you have this really great play going on here, with the lightning and the spookiness, and the evil. It's really good theater." I suddenly leapt to the side as lightning arced through the window to where I was standing, but it seemed kind of weak, it didn't even break the glass and left just a small scorch mark on the floor. It seemed whoever the weather god was didn't like theater, meh. Still, I didn't think that this was because they found my illegal stash of candy I had been pawning off to the students, or because they found out I had copied my essay on Tom Sawyer off of the internet without reading the book. Despite the fact that all my instincts are screaming that this was a lot more serious and that I could die, I couldn't help but internally breathe a sigh of relief: they hadn't found out and weren't going to make me read the book.

Mrs Dodds looked like she was fighting her own internal battle. Maybe she had this whole speech she was going to spring on me to make me confess whatever it was that she'd thought I'd done, but I was pretty sure I had pissed her off to the level where she was ready to take her most drastic action. I was proven right when she just screamed "Your time is up, DIE HONEY!" as she turned into a winged-and-clawed-monster-with-teeth-that's-going-to-eat-me and lunged. Mr Brunner conveniently appeared in the archway to the gallery and tossed me a pen shouting "What ho, Percy!" Time seemed to slow down as my brain ran through all the important thoughts of the moment. One, someone _had_ to teach me how those guys moved around so fast, I was so jealous. Two, Mrs Dodds was really ugly with shriveled-up skin stretching all over her body and wings, and if it wasn't for the fact that she was currently lunging at me with tallons and teeth intending to slice me to ribbons, then I would have felt sorry for her. Three, the pen Mr Brunner threw uncapped in my hand and turned into the sword that he would use in class that I always wanted to hold, and it was epic and sharp.

Feeling absolutely awesome, I instinctively shifted my weight to counter-balance the sword and leant into a single strike that rent Mrs Dodds from shoulder to hip with a _hiss_, turning her into a sandcastle in a power fan. Literally. I mean that she turned into yellow powder as she disintegrated, that was still lunging at me, making me have a coughing fit and totally ruining my epic moment. She also left a smell of sulphur that I know is just going to stick to my clothes, along with a dying screech and an evil chill in the air. Despite it all, I felt great, as I had vanquished my evil maths teacher, and I was pretty sure it would be alright since people don't die like that, so I wasn't a murderer.

Looking around, I was suddenly alone in the gallery, and Mr Brunner was nowhere to be seen. He _so_ had to teach me how he did that. Looking down in my hands, I saw the pen he had thrown me, so I was pretty sure I hadn't imagined the whole thing. Looking at the pen, I saw it wasn't capped, and I growled "Come on, don't play games with me." The pen flickered into the sword for a moment, before turning back. Satisfied, I capped the sword-pen and put it in my pocket, I wasn't sure I wanted to give it back.

I went back outside, it had started raining. That in itself was annoying, as the class hadn't prepared for wet weather. I wanted to talk to Grover, so I barely even registered a soaked Nancy Bobofit grumbling to her friends before saying to me "I hope Mrs Kerr whipped your butt." I felt pretty in control of the situation, and didn't ponder who Mrs Kerr was but instead just walked right past her, not even looking at her and patting her on the shoulder saying "Sure, why not. You just believe that." I felt a smirk grow as I heard her splutter behind me.

Grover was still by the fountain, holding a museum map over his head to protect him from the rain. He looked like he expected me to say something, probably about Mrs Dodds, but I was glad no-one else remembered her since it would have been awkward to explain what I had done to her. Still, he looked like the only person who remembered, so I humored him, "Hey mate, I think I ran into a wall inside the museum and knocked my head, what does Mrs Kerr teach again?" He looked like a deer in headlights and I realized my best friend couldn't lie to save his life when he knew differently. Mr Brunner was calling us over so I let him off the hook and said "It was maths wasn't it? C'mon, or we'll miss the bus back to Yancy."

Mr Brunner was in his wheelchair, putting his book away as if he had never moved. As we approached, I saw a perky blond woman I've never seen before in my life herding students out the corner of my eye. Three guesses tells my that's Mrs Kerr, which was kind of disconcerting. What exactly was she doing during the field trip when Mrs Dodds chaperoned? Does she remember what she did, or were her memories altered like the class' seemed to be? When I reached Mr Brunner he saw me and spoke up. "Percy Jackson, I believe I lent you my pen..." He trailed off and looked at me expectantly, but I didn't want to give it up. I made a show of thinking before I replied, "Oh, that pen, the one with Greek on the side, right?" I took a good long look in the museum at the pen. "It read alpha, nu, alpha, kappa, lambda, upsilon, sigma, mu, omicron, zeta, right?"

Mr Brunner's eyes were wide, he obviously didn't expect me to take a good look at it, or probably recognise the Greek. "Well, you see, I tried writing with it in the museum, but there was no ink. Sorry sir, but it was a kind of useless pen, so I threw it out in a trash can in the museum. I bought you a new one from the gift shop though." It was a lie, I had filched it on the way out so Mr Brunner would have to drop the subject. I figured he would know I hadn't gotten rid of it, but since Mrs Kerr was so sudden, and he seemed to know what Mrs Dodds was, I also figured he didn't want to explain everything to me at the moment. He would have to, of course, explain properly if he wanted his pen back, but not here. He surprised me though, by sighing and saying "Ah well, thank you for the pen Mr Jackson, perhaps losing the other one was for the best."


	2. Fated Socks

**A/N Thanks for all the response the last chapter has gotten. I'm sorry this has taken so long, but I've had a hard time writing these past few months. Still, here it is, I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review to tell me what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I do solemnly swear that I am not Rick Riordan and do not own PJO.**

**Peace out, and enjoy the chapter.**

Chapter 2: Fated Socks

As the rest of term flew by, I looked on with an almost permanent raised eyebrow. Seriously, I don't have a clue what made Mrs Dodds disappear from everyone's memory, but it was pretty good stuff, and although I knew I wanted some, I had the feeling Mr Brunner wouldn't teach me, something about 'irresponsible children' or something like that. It was something he would care too much to joke about, and I knew he was at the heart of it. See, I knew Grover remembered Mrs Dodds, because he was a terrible liar, period. Mr Brunner probably would have fooled me, if I hadn't kept the pen-sword, Anaklusmoz... Anaklusmos... something like that, it's not like learning Ancient Greek was part of the syllabus.

I wouldn't have minded too much, but sometimes I would get a feeling and flit through the textbook _Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology_ just to look at the photos of Greek script, or statues with names, or something like that. It was weird, but the Greek made about as much sense to me as the English, which considering my dyslexia wasn't that much of an achievement, but I still had never had any lessons in Greek, other than that one time Mr Brunner made us memorize the alphabet, which the class was moaning about for weeks. It was also the first time I actually did well in class, I didn't see what was so hard. Pity it wasn't graded and was never going to show up on the final, so my first ever academic success went unnoticed. Still, it was a little creepy, looking at the Greek words, I would feel a hint of understanding as I looked at them, and once when I looked at the pen, I could have sworn I heard a voice say 'Riptide' in the back of my mind. It was so creepy that I probably would have thrown it away, if it wasn't an epic as sword I could uncap at a moment's notice.

Still, I had to make a real effort to stay cheerful, as the worsening freak weather would make me angry at a moment's notice, which was weird. Then again, maybe that was partly to do with the fact that a thunderstorm blew out one of the windows in my dorm room. Regardless, sometimes I just felt like I was a bug under this _huge_ microscope, and was being oppressed by this massive presence that was pissed off at me.

My mood took a turn for the worse, as Nancy Bobofit thought I hadn't been punished enough at the museum. She kept gathering her little friends and picking fights with me, and I kept getting sent out into the hall, mainly because I kept winning. Still, it gave her countless opportunities to pull out her 'poor innocent little girl' act on the teachers, so I was the one that got closer and closer to suspension. I honestly don't know how the teachers fall for it though, or even stomach her act, just looking at it makes me want to hurl. I should probably stop telling the teachers that when they break up fights, because no matter how much she asks for it, I don't think it's helping me all that much.

It just keeps getting worse, as the more irritable I get, the more snarky and sarcastic I get, which pisses off the teachers more. Grover isn't able to help most of the time, and all Brunner can do is call it before the sparks flare when he's around, which is only one class out of all school where I don't get punished the second I walk in the door and Nancy throws something, it's probably why I'm still here.

Every day, though, it gets harder and harder to not walk out the front doors of school and just catch a taxi home. Mom would make everything better, but she'd be so disappointed that I didn't stick it out. Also, there was _that_ problem at home, that I could only pray would have disappeared by the time I got back. Seriously, I'm putting myself in denial about it, I just hope he hasn't gotten worse.

Partly because Mr Brunner was so serious at the museum, and partly because I wasn't occupying myself with all the schoolwork I was supposed to be doing, I often thought about what he said. Mr Brunner told me at the museum that his subject was a matter of life and death, and after a couple nightmares about Mrs Dodds lunging at me while I couldn't move a muscle, I started to believe him.

This in itself was a problem, 'cause there was no way I was going to bust my gut trying to read the small script of this big ass textbook only to get the same grades as all the other slackers. I wasn't going to do it, especially since Mr Brunner would look me in the eyes every lesson, and I would shiver at how serious he was, that it really meant something that I was supposed to be better than the rest of the class. It was almost like he was trying to tell me something, as he would only stare into my soul whenever no-one else was around, but acted normally whenever they were. I suppose it creeped me out a little, but there has been more than one occasion where I would wrench my eyes away from him and walk down the hall shaking my head, deciding that he only stared in those moments for the effect of the silence. I told Grover a couple of times, he was my mate after all, but I don't know who he was trying to fool when he would tense if I caught him by surprise, before giving me some half-assed comment about how school was important or something. Please, if that mattered I wouldn't be at Yancy, and all this coming from the guy older than all of us and therefore the worst at school.

Still, I had to come up with a way to study. Because Yancy was a boarding school, they had to give us dorms to sleep in. Said dorms looked like two people were arguing about it and both came to a middle ground neither of them wanted. See, they could have given us individual dorms, but apparently that was too much of a luxury for the delinquents of New York. Still, it seems that someone came up with the smart idea that putting to many of us in the same sleeping space would result in bullying and fighting when the teachers weren't around. Worse, we would have enough talent to probably destroy the school buildings if we teamed up, which might have been a plan if it would shut down the school and let us go to wherever we haunt when we have a choice. Instead, they put us in pairs, as apparently two sets of parents should be able to team up and pay for the damage if any of us destroyed a room. This meant I got to have a dorm with just me and Grover, but I also pitied the girl made to sleep with Nancy Bobofit.

One night, I was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for Grover. Mrs Kerr was a lot nicer than Mrs Dodds ever was, but Grover would have gotten detention from any maths teacher when they saw him eat class pencils when he was nervous and struggled with a question. I just told him not to get splinters in his throat and went to sleep in class. Because everyone hated maths, I could usually get through most of the class asleep as everyone else was causing a ruckus to get out of actually doing anything. Grover limped into the dorm. It always made me sad to see him limp around, but he never acted like he was in pain, or anything like that. He usually deflected questions about the condition of his legs, to the point where he wouldn't shower with anyone nearby. Even I didn't know what they looked like, but I can understand. There are parts of my life that I wouldn't want people to find out about, not even Grover. I was still trying to come up with an answer to how on earth I was supposed to learn Brunner's subject, when Grover sat across from me and asked "You alright man? You know I'm here for you if you need anything." Grover sometimes talked like he was an adult (mind you so do I), but we were still kids fancying ourselves more mature than the bulk of the student body. Still, even when we were complete eggs, we meant what we said to each other. Even though we had talked like this before, and this wasn't the first time we made offers like that to each other, I still had a thought that hadn't occurred to me before, and I looked up at Grover with an epic grin on my face. Grover groaned "Not that look, Percy! Seriously, what are we going to be ending up doing now that I won't like tomorrow morning?" See? Like I said, Best Friend. In response, I just smirked and threw the _Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology_ onto his lap, and he took one look before groaning again.

You know, I sorta had to pity the guy. I mean, sure it was probably going to crash and burn, but still, the fact that I managed to find a way past my dyslexia should be worthy of an award or something. Even so, it didn't do jack all about my lack of attention span, and Grover found out first hand why all of the teachers except Brunner hated me. Brunner didn't count. He actually wanted me to succeed for other reasons than the fact that he's paid to want to and my scores reflect on the school. Still, I blame mental illness for my learning process. Whenever anyone tries to teach me something, I have a built in stream of BS for their efforts. On the other hand, it is very good at telling what my mood is. Making sarcastic comments shows I'm trying to learn the lesson, but me asking endless stupid questions in the most impossible tangent I can think of means I'm losing interest. Me being grumpy and pissy means that I really don't like the lesson, but me sleeping means nothing. I was just tired. Unfortunately most teachers have the idea that sleep means something else when I _wake up_ pissy and uninterested. I'm still claiming that it's not my fault that I can't follow a lesson in my sleep and am snappy when rudely awoken. It's a pity none of the teachers see that's all that matters. It's not my fault _or_ problem that their lesson isn't enough to keep me awake when I'm tired, and I'm pretty sure that it's not a good sign where a student actually manages to fall asleep before the teacher notices.

Grover was my friend, and as such he generally had a thick skin when it came to my mouth. He knew what I was interested in and what I wasn't. But while this was all great in theory, it was still stressful to dump the responsibility on his shoulders, and my mental health certificate didn't seem to make it worth it for him. It also probably didn't help that I antagonize people on principle, especially when they're 'only trying to help me'. I can still tell the difference between douches and the genuine article, but the response is automatic, and I end up enjoying myself anyway so I stop caring. I tried to stop pushing Grover's buttons, though, as the man was the only hope I had of getting good at the only subject I bothered to stay in school for. It was a good thing, then, that I picked the only subject Grover is good at; I still snicker at the image of him trying to tutor me in English or Maths.

The rest of the term passed like that, although Grover got more stressed and alert as time went on. I'm pretty sure it wasn't _entirely_ my fault, but he did look like he expected things to start blowing up soon. We would study each night for as long as we could bear it (which wasn't all that long), but we did have some standards as to how much progress I had to make. It was enlightening too, as there were many things we learned early on that would never have come up in class. Who knew that the Greek stuff would be easier to pick up than the Latin? I discovered this weird process I had of learning it in Greek first, and then learning the Latin counterpart. Apparently Ancient Greece was around before the Romans, and they were the guys that came up with Latin, or something. Grover had this weird tick where he wouldn't say the name of the Titans, Gods, or Monsters, like he was afraid of them. He would try and make me say it, to help with my dyslexia, or something. What Grover didn't know, was that I was looking up the Ancient Greek language when he wasn't around, and it was making a lot more sense than English ever did. I didn't have a teacher, but the feeling that I knew what the words meant grew stronger, like I could hear them in my head. There was this incident where I discovered I was calling Mr Brunner's old pen-sword Riptide in my mind, and I threw it away before I could stop myself. The thing was creepy. I did learn that the pen comes back if you lose it, which really freaked me out until I realized I had an unlosable sword. That was cool.

Grover didn't know that when he showed me the book that I was reading the Greek. The letters stayed in my head and didn't run across the page, so I saw the lessons as being absolutely epic, even if I didn't share it with anybody. From there, once I had the Greek concepts, they seemed to flow into Latin seamlessly, like it was the next sequence, as logical as a river running downstream.

It was definitely weird, but as Grover seemed to get more and more wound up, he would have the weirdest reactions. He would flinch whenever I would ask about a monster or god, and I would almost think he would chicken out and not tell me if it terrified him that much. Then, he would pull himself together, like it was his God-given duty to make sure I learned this stuff. Call me crazy, but I'm starting to agree with him, the weather would always turn foul the more we talked about this stuff. Grover actually bleated like some barnyard animal when I told him that I would only write my answers in Greek and Latin in the exam, and I heard him mutter almost inaudibly about "...he's assimilating faster than I would have thought..." or something like that. Then, in almost the opposite turn of events, he would brighten up whenever I got bored with the mythology and I asked him to help me look up Latin swear words. Apparently that's safer.

There was even this one time when I thought I gave my best bud a heart attack. It was kinda my fault, but I didn't know he would react like that, honest! See, I figured that he remembered Mrs Dodds, but wasn't allowed to say anything by Mr Brunner. I guessed they were in league or something like that. Anyway, we were looking up the Underworld, and I was learning how to spell Charon in Ancient Greek, when I flipped the page and found a picture that I had to show Grover. It showed that Hades, as the lord of the Underworld, had these lieutenants called the Furies, or the Kindly Ones as the superstitious Greeks called them. The first couple of pictures showed women with wings and claws, fine, but the third one had me laughing my ass off. It showed the three as absolutely hideous, and while it reminded me of Mrs Dodds, they were surrounding the Throne of Hades and bowing towards him. I couldn't help myself, so I turned the book around to Grover, pointed to the picture and asked him "Oi! You reckon Mrs Dodds would ever be caught dead doing that?" Poor guy, almost had a heart failure.

As we got closer to the finals, I couldn't help but get worried about how Grover was holding up, or what he was going to do next year, since I was told by the principal in his office that even if I made it to the end of the year without getting suspended, I would not be invited back. Since Grover and Brunner seemed to have this super-secret-spy-duo thing going, I figured I would up and ask Brunner about it. He wouldn't even have to tell me everything, but as Grover's friend I had to look out for the guy. On the night before the exams I grabbed my textbook and went to his classroom, where I heard Grover and Brunner talking. I almost left then; Grover is in good hands with Brunner, the man is unflappable. I would've turned around and walked right then, when I heard them mention my name: they were talking about me.

I, as a matter of fact, am a shameless eavesdropper. Being hated by teachers for years means that they stop telling you stuff, apparently I'm not mature or responsible enough to handle information. So, when teachers would talk about me after I 'left', I would always be amazed by the amount of information they would come forward with if they thought I couldn't hear them. With this in mind, I walked up to the door, put my back up against the frame like I was waiting for an appointment, and relaxed my head so my ear was right up against the crack of the door. Now to hear the good stuff.

"I'm worried about Percy, sir." Poor Grover, I don't think he ever knew what to do with me.

"Yes, the lad does seem to be untamable." I could _feel_ the amusement dancing in Brunner's eyes, and the confusion that would be pouring off Grover. Just hearing Grover sputter proved my point, and I imagined Brunner would bask in the moment before either putting Grover out of his misery or changing the subject.

"This isn't because of what happened last time, is it?" How did I know he would go for deflection? Grover wouldn't remember the untamable comment until a long time after the conversation here finished, that was just how Brunner rolled.

"No, sir," Grover actually chuckled. "Even if it was at first, Percy's just too much his own character. I'm not even old and I'm sure he's given me some gray hairs." His tone turned serious. "No, it's just that with his personality, it's going to be almost impossible to prove he _didn't_ do it. He'd probably fess up just for kicks! And then he'd have the gall to tell them to lighten up about the whole thing!" I was smirking up a storm, but I had to withhold a chuckle. That sounded _exactly_ like something I would do. I'll file that information away for when I find out who's blaming me this time, the more important they are, the more I'll tell them to go stuff it where the sun don't shine. The further up that scale I go, the more it seems like I have a death wish, now that I think about it...

Grover was still talking, "And he might have found out about us! Grr, I can't read him, more often than not he's either laughing his ass off or self-satisfied, what am I supposed to do with that? Did you see the joke he made about the Kindly Ones!?" How does he know my emotions, not that I hide them, but he seems to know what they are even when I'm not showing or telling him... "He's the bane of Satyrs everywhere!"

The air turned still then. Brunner's either silently laughing or is glaring at Grover for his slip-up. No-one's supposed to be around, so it's probably the former. Still, Grover's talking about Satyrs as if he's one of them, which means Greek Mythology is real... huh. Well that would explain his walking problem, if he's got Goat Legs under there, and if Mrs Dodds was a Fury...shame on that bitch.

Brunner finally found his voice again "He'll be safe as long as he doesn't know what he is. Besides, he kept my gift for him, and although I hadn't planned on him receiving it this early, it will keep him safe. You have nothing to worry about, I've seen his reflexes, he'll definitely live long enough to get to camp." He chuckled again, I swear he gets his kicks from confusing the hell out of kids, maybe he's like an uber-teacher from Greek Mythology, like that guy Charon? Chiron? Chiron. I'm _sure_ it's Chiron... I think. Either way, it didn't matter to me if Brunner was some ancient teaching deity from Greek Mythos or not, but that could explain how he knows what kids are thinking. Ch_i_ron's taught enough of them, and he was heralded as wise for as long as mythology records. I wondered why they were all interested in me, was there a reason why I was so different?

Brunner seemed to be musing me as well. Maybe they were drawn to me the same way Mrs Dodds was, but they don't know the specifics of who I am either... "Hmm, untamable and unreadable, yet highly volatile..." Yep, he had me down to a T, "What do you think that describes, Grover?"

"The sea... by the Gods, Chiron you can't be serious!" Grover seemed to have worked me out. I was figuring that I can't be unique, since there was a camp mentioned earlier, but the legendary Chiron wouldn't go out and find every one of... whatever I was. Meh, Grover's a Satyr, so maybe they're sent out to find 'us' as it were. He can apparently read my emotions so that would fit. Grover's inability to lie is probably all him, though, and he did give out Chiron's name, though I wonder how he fit in the wheelchair. The whole 'by-the-gods' thing means Grover believes in some Pantheon or other, which fits, the only thing missing is me. Thinking back to the myths I'm suddenly really glad I studied, the most common human people were heroes. Heracles, Achilles, the first Perseus, Theseus, Bellerophon, Hippolyta, Atlanta, etc... Wait. Most of the heroes were demigods. There were heaps of them because the Gods couldn't help themselves and fell in love with mortal after mortal. They think I'm a demigod... I think my dad's a jerk.

The sea... Mom always told me that Dad wasn't dead, but lost at sea. She knew. She knew my dad's the Greek God Poseidon, I'm not sure whether or not to hate him for that. There's no doubt in my mind that he could have hidden his identity from her if he wanted to, but by telling her he abandoned her to a life where she would pine for him, but know he was out of reach.. A loud peal of thunder cracked through the sky, shocking me out of my reverie and making me drop my book. I hurriedly picked it up and started backing away from the door, suddenly getting caught now means more to me than getting caught at any other time. I heard a creaking of metal before it hit the ground. I hope that's not what I think it is. I was groaning silently as I heard the tell-tale _clip-clop_ of hooves. Another flash showed a shadow of a centaur holding a bow. I picked up the pace going back to the dorm, my only thought being _I so called that!_

When I made it back up to the dorm, Grover was waiting for me, lying across his bed with a textbook like he had been there all evening. I sat down on my bed, I _so_ had to get someone to teach me how to move that fast. Maybe it was some form of teleportation, as Grover didn't pull me up on where I was, so he obviously didn't pass me on his way here. Still, I thought of all I had learnt this evening, and before I knew it, I was smirking up a storm again. Grover examined my face closely, I guessed that since I was still sorting my emotions out when I entered the dorm and saw him lying on his bed, so he might be concerned. He huffed right when the smirk appeared, so apparently he can't tell what causes my emotions. He covered himself with a follow-up, "Sheesh Percy, you look like that time you broke into the English room and stole all the pens. What is it this time?" He tried to sound like he was angry at me, but I could see through him. Because I didn't have all the answers to what I had just heard (a small part of my mind was still unwilling to accept it as fast as my exterior did) but I knew Grover had kept this from me, I decided to let him stew. "Oh, nothing happened, I'm just in a good mood." My voice was unusually cheerful, I could feel Grover's anxiety, "How about we ditch tonight's lesson, I'm really tired, and cramming before a test is never good." Over-exaggerated yawn, "I'm tired, goodnight!" Turning my light off, I got changed into my PJ's and got into bed. Grover's disturbed feeling was palpable. Whenever I acted in a way that's different to me normally, it's not a good sign. When I act like I'm actually a responsible, balanced child, it's an uncharted territory that has a tendency to lead to the craziest stuff that happens to me. The last time I acted like this I was convincing the museum tour guard that in order to have a proper appreciation of historical artefacts, he had to let me close enough to touch the war cannon. The school bus didn't survive.

Scene Break

I walked out of the exam smiling, and the bags under Grover's eyes told me he hadn't reacted well to my sudden change n behaviour... good. It was only on the way to the exam that I remembered that the questions would be in English, and understanding them would be as difficult as ever. I answered what I could, and when the question was too complicated for me to read, then I entertained myself by insulting the examiners in Latin and Ancient Greek in the margins. I might not have the exact grammar of the language down, but I knew the subject, and that was the important thing.

I was stopped from leaving and celebrating when Mr Brunner called me back into class. Shrugging to Grover, I went back in, wondering what he was going to tell me and what tact he would take.

"Percy..." Well he was off to a good start, but I was in a playful mood and cut him off.

"That's me. You wanted to see me sir." I actually managed to school my features into perfect innocence, I was on a roll today.

Brunner simply glared lightly, he obviously had something planned out that he wanted to get out of the way.

"Yes, well, try not to be too discouraged about leaving Yancy. The principal has made it clear you are not to return, and I hope you don't feel too disheartened."

That burned. Brunner sucked at this. He should spend a few centuries teaching English or Social Studies, maybe that would help him relate to people.

"Yeah, it's fine. Besides, I don't want to be charged with my teachers' shrink bills if they have to have me in their class for another year. You're welcome to rearrange teaching positions around what school I will be going to next year if you care that much though, feel free." I was definitely on a roll today.

Some of the students still in the exam were snickering quietly at the conversation, they could all hear us. Mr Brunner definitely could've chosen a better time and place to do this. He seemed uncomfortable, like this was an unpleasant topic that he felt he needed to address, and nothing was coming out right. Then again, that could be exactly what's happening.

"I mean... Percy, Yancy was never going to be the place for you. It was only a matter of time before that became clear." Brunner was really, _really_, bad at this.

Looking over the class of students that weren't even trying to hold back their laughter now, I piped up, "You know, I'm going to have to agree with you on that one. The kids here were never destined to be able to live up to my level of awesome. You're right, it was only a matter of time." While my words and tone were perfect, my expression was telling him in no uncertain terms _you're in a shit-hole, stop digging_. I actually don't know a less vulgar way to put that.

Mr Brunner seemed to get the message, but he wouldn't stop trying to salvage whatever was left of his talk with me. "I didn't mean it like that... confound it all Percy, I'm just saying that you're not normal, and it's nothing to be ashamed of..." He trailed off as I held out my hand in a shushing gesture. I was shaking my head at the same time.

"Just... wow." That was the only thing I could say. "Is it so hard to say I'm special, or whatever it is that you're trying to tell me?" Mr Brunner's expression told me that was exactly what he meant. "Well if I'm special, so are you. How many times can a normal person mess up communicating something that simple? It has _got_ to be less than what just happened." Still shaking my head, I walked out.

I could only shrug to Grover when he asked what that was all about, because really, what can you say to that? "It was... more complicated than it needed to be." Grover caught on that I didn't want to talk about it, and we went to lunch while I muttered about stupid teachers and bad communication. My good mood was completely ruined, good job Brunner.

Scene Break

I was packing quickly on the last day of term. I was sick to death of Nancy Bobofit, stupid teachers, and Yancy Academy in general. There were things I'd miss, and I knew the issues that would come from being kicked out of another school, but I couldn't bring myself to be sad about leaving Yancy. In the earlier grades, I used to get upset that I would get kicked out, no matter how hard I tried to be like all the other kids. Then they told me that I had dyslexia and ADHD, which were serious mental illnesses. They also told me to research them, so I begged mom to while inwardly cursing the stupidity of shrinks. They either think that now that you know you'll be able to push past your issues, or there's nothing you can do and they prep you for life in a straightjacket. Mom knows I'm a good kid, and I try to do right by people, but I stopped caring about the people who couldn't see me struggling but trying. Brunner saw, and now I know his subject. That's more than the other teachers can say about me.

We were all sitting outside after getting out, it was a rare beautiful day, and I had a sense of foreboding. The other guys were out there, and they had all congregated into a little group. They were going to go all over various parts of the world for vacation, as heaps of them were _rich_ juvenile delinquents, and are mostly attention seekers trying to have a relationship with a parent that works harder at their job than at their relationship with their children. God I've been around too many shrinks. Yancy was expensive, and I hoped I had learned something that made the year worthwhile. I didn't even misfire a WW2 cannon into this one's school bus. That's gotta be a plus.

I mentally scolded myself for thinking like that. Mom didn't have the spare money to fix up the school if I did something like that this year.. We weren't dirt poor or anything like that, but mom made barely enough for a comfortable lifestyle. In past years whenever she was brought to the school when I had an accident, she would cry and play the 'poor-but-helpless-mom-with-a-delinquent-son-that-she-can't-afford-to-have-institutionalized' role. Even though she winked at me when no-one was looking, it still broke my heart to see her act like that. Still, the amount of discounts I manage to get for her almost make up for her having to swallow her pride. Almost. But nothing could change the fact that my family weren't supported by a rich parent, and my dad wasn't even in the picture. If he's who I think he is, than would it have been so much to ask for a child support check?

The other kids didn't care about me, and I didn't really care about them. I was moderately surprised when one of them asked me what I had planned for the summer. The city wasn't all that exciting, s I replied snobbishly "I will be contributing to my family finances." They looked shocked, but quickly went back to their conversation. They definitely didn't want anything to do with me now; is it my fault people get confused when it comes to me? I would have to start early, or else all the good summer jobs would be gone. It was harder being twelve, but I could make a couple of bucks. I hope we can find a new school for next year, but maybe I can run away for a part of the summer. School interviews tend to go worse when I'm there, maybe I should say I have Tourettes Syndrome, or at least be diagnosed for my lack of self-control when it comes to antagonizing people, I spend enough time with shrinks as it is, but I would first have to somehow get them to stop thinking that it's just me being childish because of a lack of attention.

I was a little sad about saying goodbye to Grover, but if what I'd overheard was any indication, he wouldn't be letting me out of his sights because of a little thing like school ending. I smirked up a storm when he _just happened_ to have a ticket into Manhattan on the same Greyhound I was taking. It was just as funny to see his confusion and frustration at my emotions, which just made me smirk all that much more. I briefly lamented that I was never ever _ever_ going to convince him I was innocent of anything for the rest of my life. Ah well.

He seemed to relax, almost as if comforted by my continued smugness. Still, his eyes were darting around more and I could see his body tensing. It was this weird tick he had whenever we left Yancy, (or left Yancy without Brunner, because he wasn't tense like this on our last field trip) and I just had to tease him. He probably had a good reason that had to do with the conversation I overheard, so I suppose he had a reason. I still couldn't let it fly, though, "C'mon man, if there was a Kindly One on this bus that was as ugly as Mrs Dodds, we would know by now. Besides, if you want to be a paranoid little goat, you can just let yourself be shielded by my aura of awesomeness." Grover promptly jumped out of his skin, and then glared at me so fiercely that I knew I was going to regret my goat comment. I didn't let that stop me though, as I assumed my 'awesome pose' that I use whenever I reference to my natural awesomeness. I would promptly hold it until I was sufficiently shocked out of the mood.

Grover took awhile to reign himself in from his unholy wrath, but I was slightly disturbed by the look in his eyes when he just hissed "_How?_" And what happened to my meek little friend?

"Dude, I know you've been onto me since that Fury picture, and besides, I know we never talk about it but I've seen you run for those enchiladas you love so much, I also saw what happened that trashcan after they didn't have the shipment of enchiladas that day. Seriously man, you've got some seriously strong legs in those pants." Grover's eyes regained that weird look, and I almost faltered, this was not going to be pleasant.

"So, you overheard me and Mr Brunner talking." The dude was way too calm, so my nod was a little shaky.

"And now you think you're a part of some secret conspiracy that makes you some sort of superhuman, yes?" My smirk returned and I puffed up, but there was still a little voice in my head that was ringing alarm-bells. I idly wondered if it was my self-preservation instinct, and if so, it was _really_ quiet.

"Why don't we test that theory?" That evil best friend of mine only gave me that much warning before stamping the hell out of foot, along with all life in it. This once, I screamed like a little girl, and no-one turned a hair. Damn New Yorkers.

Anyway, it was Grover who was smirking while I clutched my foot and swore like all those sailors I heard about. He made sure no-one was watching as he pulled out a business card with fancy-ass italicized writing that's impossible to read. I glared at him before spending the next ten minutes sussing it out when it was obvious he wasn't going to read it out to me.

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

I wanted to punch him, all that for ten odd words? Hell no. Still, I held in my breath with my new anger management technique 'Don't Get Mad, Get Even' and smirked. "So, you're a keeper huh?" I was sarcastic, smirking, and waggling my eyebrows, so it wasn't long before he cracked, blushed, started to stutter, and all was right in the universe once again.

Said Universe hates me, I decided all of two seconds later, when the bus broke down and started filling up with smoke that smelt like a Yancy Assembly on laxatives. As the driver pulled the Greyhound over and started tinkering with the engine I leaned over to Grover and whispered "Oi, this Long Island place of yours is where you take people like me, right? It's not some super-secret summer mansion that you forgot to tell me about at school, right? Because if it is, then we will be having issues." Grover just grinned and shook his head, which made me feel better. I figure that Grover doesn't think my attention span is long enough for me to remember the first part of my question, but I defend its honor since my short attention span and my tendency to go off on tangents is the source of my best ideas. Once again I was forcibly shocked from my thoughts, this time by the fumes that had thickened to the point where I actually gasped for air, before sprinting after the people I just now noticed were being shown off the bus by the driver.

Well, I thought, isn't this just generic. The Greyhound had broken down in the middle of nowhere out on the deserted country road. It was one of those countless places that looks _exactly_ like everywhere else on the road. If it wasn't for the fact that the heat today was sweltering, and the broken bus smelled like shit, then I probably would've had heaps of things to say about the current situation. As it was, I just hooked up with Grover again and looked for anything to hold my attention out here while the Greyhound was being fixed. Strangely enough, there was this really old-fashioned fruit stand to break up the monotony.

It was weird. _Really_ weird. And old too. I knew we probably shouldn't, especially with Grover quivering like that, but it sounded like an awesome idea to go and check out the place. It shouldn't have mattered; we were having the first fine day in ages (even if the heat was a bit much), and I even told the bus driver where we were going, as there was no indication of the amount of time it would take to get the trip home back underway. Maybe that was the problem, things were _too_ good at the moment.

I was halfway across the road when I noticed the food. There was really fresh fruit gleaming in the sun that just begged to be eaten. I was never much of a fruit-n-veg type person, but I swear, sweating like a pig out in the middle of nowhere makes you thirsty enough that anything looks wonderful. I was so wrapped up in the plump, juice-filled fruits that I nearly didn't notice the three creepy old ladies.

At the first glance, I would rather look at the apples and cherries than these ladies. The second glance told me exactly the same thing. They looked ancient, like some sort of living fossil or something, and they were knitting. I shuddered, I can't stand senile old people, but hopefully these guys will be alright. I tactfully ignored the fact that they were staring at me, not even looking at what they were doing. Perhaps it was my fault that they didn't notice that they had socks the size of sweaters. Nah.

I idly wondered what these ladies were, since they had Grover so scared he refused to come with me. Funny, I told him to trust me and he flipped from being scared of what those ladies might do to being scared to what _I_ might do. My best friend has no faith in me, seriously. Then again, these were creepy old ladies that were commissioned by Godzilla to keep his talons warm in the winter, so maybe he was on to something there.

I was just going to ask them about the fruit, honest, when they started to speak.

"You should not be here-"

"-You should not stand before us-"

"-You should not ask of us."

Huh, that was strange. Ah well.

"Hey, um, maybe you three don't know me that well. 'Cause you see, I'm not all that good at following what I _should_ be doing, I do my own thing."

Creepy stalkers.

"He defies us-"

"-He must not know-"

"-He must pay."

This was getting weirder and older by the minute.

"Uh, calm down? I was just here for some fruit, you know, to quench my thirst and all that."

I looked around, but the stand had disappeared. There was nothing there except for the ladies, who had transformed into even older versions of themselves in Greek outfits. The socks the two on the ends were knitting had turned into tapestries, and the basket in the center had become a loom. They were still staring at me, but their weaving of the threads had become decidedly more menacing. My mind superimposed a Greek image from my textbook over the ladies, and my mind whispered _"The Fates"_.

My world came to a grinding halt, but not because of them. I had a decision to make. I could draw my sword of awesomeness and risk fucking up not just my fate but everyone else's in the tapestry (if I could even cut the Fates or their threads), I could back away slowly and run back to the bus and have nightmares for the rest of my life, or I could take the unimaginably stupid option and push my luck to the level of seeing if I could fuck with Fate and get away with it. Choices. _Hmm_.

"You know, I find it kind of creepy that you girls have been stalking my life," They blinked, and then started hissing, which I figured wasn't a good sign, but I wasn't here to make friends with them. "So I can't really be sorry for the fact that I seem to be screwing up your perfect pattern," Now they looking more and more hostile, " But hey, I prefer to _weave_ my own destiny, just go with the _flow_, where my _current_ takes me. So I'll _wave_ goodbye now, we may or may not _sea_ each other later."

I think I managed to shock them, because they didn't try to stop me from leaving. I wondered how often they came across a being as impudent as me, since in all the legends around them I can recall usually some Mortal, God or Titan try to change their fate, and failing. I was certainly not trying to curry favor from them, so I had the idea that they might not know how to handle me. Looking back as I was crossing the road, I saw them arguing with each other over what looked like a rather large knot in the threads, which hopefully meant I was too important to snip right now. Arriving back at the Greyhound (which was billowing a lot less smoke than when I left, I sought out Grover with a wicked smile on my face. I had a feeling he was going to _love_ this.

Grover was looking faint when I found him again, he had turned his back from he probably thought was going to be my death. Tapping him on the shoulder I watched his eyes bug out, especially after looking across the road to where the Fates were still arguing. As he was just staring blankly, I took the liberty of filling him in with the details of the encounter. I had just thought I had broken him when he snapped out of it and started dragging me back onto the bus. He kept looking at me while shaking his head, his expression somewhere between fear, rage, awe, concern, frustration, and just plain glaring at me. He leant his head close to mine and said, "Percy, you do know that I'm supposed to be you're protector until you arrive on camp, so how are you supposed to make it if you keep drawing the attention of those as powerful as who you just saw?"

"Grover, man, um protector? That's new. Also why are you being so vague? You of all people know they're the-" I couldn't finish as Grover clamped my mouth shut with his hand and literally hissed in my ear. "_Names have power, idiot! Do you want to bring every monster you've ever read about straight to you?_" I was about to express my confusion, when suddenly I felt lightheaded. Looking out the window, I saw all three ladies smirking at me as they raised a pair of shears to a thread and _snipped_. The world started spinning before I realized that I was swaying in my seat, and I vaguely noticed Grover trying to hold me up while shouting something. The pounding in my head worsened, until I tipped forward and the ground came to meet me.

I blacked out.


End file.
